


Volcano Day

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: Fictober 2019 [10]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ancient Rome, M/M, demonic wiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 22:16:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21363535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Crowley finds Aziraphale on vacation.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Fictober 2019 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540126
Comments: 5
Kudos: 59





	Volcano Day

**Author's Note:**

> For fictober day ten: “Listen, I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me.” Takes place in accordance with my fic Worth His Salt, but you don't need to read that one to get it.

For the most part, Aziraphale liked the Romans. He couldn’t say he was in favor of all the empire expansions, so-called “divine plan” or otherwise, but they had some truly remarkable artists and thinkers. Not to mention the bathhouses, which were better than divine.

It was Aziraphale’s first vacation in centuries. His first vacation ever, actually – he had just learned about them, and after all the work he’d been doing for Heaven, and given that he didn’t currently have an assignment, a little personal time seemed like a wonderful idea. An island vacation was just the ticket, and as Aziraphale relaxed further into the bath he sighed in contentment. Yes, he really ought to do this more often in the future.

“Aziraphale?”

He blinked his eyes open in surprise. His demon counterpart, Crawly – _Crowley, _he corrected in his head, he’d changed his name now – was paddling over to him, his hair looser than it was four decades ago but still in those awful ringlets. Aziraphale found himself missing it long, and forcibly pushed the reaction away. He stammered, “Crowley. I thought you were leaving Rome.”

“Could say the same of you.” The demon regarded him over the rims of his smoky glasses, coming to a halt just a few feet away from Aziraphale.

“Oh, I did,” Aziraphale informed him. “I’m only back for a short while. A little vacation.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “They let your lot take those?”

“Er…”

“That’s sloth, isn’t it?”

“I’m choosing to think of it as a well-earned respite to reinvigorate the spirit.”

Crowley’s features morphed into a grin. “I love the way you twist things to make everything sound good.”

Aziraphale huffed and looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. Crowley had a tendency to bring that out in him. “I’m not twisting anything.” Memories of their last meeting nudged at him, hands twisting at hair, lips pressed against each other. The abrupt separation. The apology that there couldn’t be more. He shook his head, shooing them out. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, well,” Crowley shaded his eyes, staring up at the sun, just peeking out from behind the mountain. “Just killing time.”

“You’re not here on business?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Whatever you’re planning on doing to these poor people-“

Crowley winced. “Look, I’m not…I’m not really _doing _anything to them. Kind of the opposite. Down There’s got something scheduled for tomorrow, and I’m just here to make sure everyone…goes about business as usual.”

Aziraphale’s frown deepened. “Well that doesn’t sound particularly demonic.”

Crowley shrugged. He looked uneasy. “Depends on how you look at it, I suppose.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what it is?”

For a moment, Crowley hesitated. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. This is pretty hush-hush, top secret, and if you go around thwarting it, and believe me, I wouldn’t mind you thwarting this one at all, then they’re going to know I was the one who slipped up, and it’s not going to be pleasant.”

“I understand.” Aziraphale offered him a sympathetic smile, and Crowley returned it with a wry one of his own.

“Listen, angel,” he said. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

Aziraphale bristled. “What sort of favor?”

“Nothing bad!” Crowley reassured him hurriedly. He tread a little closer. “Listen, I can’t explain it. You’ll have to trust me. Just…take a boat back to the mainland. Tonight. Don’t be here tomorrow.”

“Well, if Hell has something planned, I really ought to-“

“_Please, _Aziraphale.” Crowley’s eyes were huge, what was visible of them behind his glasses. He stared imploringly at Aziraphale, shocking the angel with his earnestness. “You’re on vacation and…and I don’t want you to see this. So just…don’t be here tomorrow. Please.”

For a few brief moments, Aziraphale contemplated refusing. He thought about puffing up, full of divine righteousness, and telling the demon that he would foil whatever plot Hell was planning to enact, because that was the job of Good. But he remembered oysters, and he stopped.

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll leave tonight.”

“Promise?”

“I give you my word.”

Crowley relaxed. “Thank you.”

“It is a shame. I rather like Pompeii. I’ll have to come back for a proper vacation sometime.”

Crowley winced. “Yeah, angel,” he said, and there was a note of regret in his voice that Aziraphale didn’t understand. “You do that.”


End file.
